


Phantom Pain

by AngryPirateHusbands



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Coping, Developing Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Injury Recovery, Kissing, M/M, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPirateHusbands/pseuds/AngryPirateHusbands
Summary: Silver begins to experience phantom pains from his amputation, and Flint tries to offer some support.





	

The first time John Silver felt it he had already been in the throws of pain from the amputation. The rum offered by his brothers had offered very little reprieve. If anything, it only caused a thick fog to swaddle his mind like a shroud. But even so the pain remained. At times it was excruciating. Sometimes it receded to a dull throb, but those moments were few and far between. Most of the time it was pure agony. Pins and needles that spread from the mangled stump all the way up to his hip. It was far too easy to pass it off as something else, or to fail to notice it entirely.

Yet the second time he felt the sensation... it was unmistakable. Silver was resting back on the window seat where he had come to spend the majority of his time. It had only been a few weeks since the amputation and he was still unsteady on the crutches. As much as he wanted some fresh air and to stretch his aching limbs, the ones that hadn't been hacked off, he couldn't. The way the men looked at him now was unbearable. Their expressions were either something akin to pity, or a piss poor attempt at empathy. That, or they avoided his gaze altogether. Likely from discomfort. He honestly wasn't sure which he hated more.

And then there it was. That curiously sharp pain centered in his ankle, its appearance sudden enough to elicit a gasp. The noise caused Flint to glance over at him from his place at the desk. "Everything alright?" he inquired.

If it wasn't for the mixture of shock and pain, Silver would have laughed. No, everything was most certainly not alright. His leg was gone; and with it his independence, his pride, his _freedom_. Hell, even his peace of mind had been taken from him. While the men had assured him that he would be taken care of, god how those words made his stomach churn, this did little to comfort him. As far as he was concerned his future would always be in jeopardy. If he couldn't pull his own weight and serve the crew as their quartermaster, it would only be a matter of time before they saw him for what he was. An invalid.

Instead Silver bit his tongue and settled for a more tempered response. "My ankle hurts," he muttered with a shake of his head. Beads of sweat had begun to collect along his hairline. Flint's chair scraped against the floorboards before the man made his way over to him. He had become astonishingly... genuine since Charlestown. If he didn't know any better he'd think Flint actually cared for him, the way he bothered himself with the injury. His concern often went unmasked when it was just the two of them. Now the captain stooped over him and began to roll his foot in his hands, looking for dark bruises or some cut. Any obvious signs of trauma.

Silver could only offer another shake of his head. This time he also swallowed back the bitter taste of unease. "Not that one," he rasped. When Flint looked up at him he was certain that expression matched his own. Concern and confusion colored those green eyes, and his brow knit together as he struggled to understand.

"Beg pardon?"

Again Silver fought against the bile rising in his throat. "That's not the ankle that's paining me."

Flint's expression hardened. After a moment his hand withdrew to hover over the cushion of the window seat, touching the air where his other ankle had been not weeks ago. "Here?" he asked gruffly. His brow had furrowed more than he thought possible. Silver could only answer with a nod. The disarray and fear he felt in this moment made any further words die in his throat. It was an incredibly odd sensation. Intriguing in its own way, but entirely unsettling all the same. When he glanced up at Flint he was sure those emotions were displayed without fault. "I'll get Howell."

Despite his words, Silver was surprised when Flint actually left. He expected him to yell out for one of the crew; instead he was fetching the man himself. Silver took a deep breath and relaxed back against the pillows. The pain he felt throbbing far below the stump was not immense. But the fact that it existed at all gnawed heavily at the edge of his mind. Perhaps his mind had finally begun to fray. And as much as he loathed to admit it, the unease he felt only mounted when he had been left alone. Fortunately, Flint returned not moments later with doctor Howell in tow. When he recounted just what it was he felt, Howell seemed unsurprised. As if feeling pain in a limb that no longer existed was a perfectly normal occurrence. The man explained that while it was not exactly common, it did happen. The reason behind it was still a medical mystery at this point. It could simply be something imagined, words that caused Silver to emit a short laugh, or it could simply be from the traumatized nerves in his stump. In any case, this was not exactly the answer he wanted. Then again, Silver wasn't sure what it was he wanted to hear.

Howell continued to inform them that there wasn't much that could be done to manage the pain. Aside from using the opium, which Silver had already been adamant about refusing. He suggested that massaging the stump could also help this "phantom pain". It was an important part of his recovery nonetheless, but could provide an additional benefit. When asked if this phenomenon would pass, Howell could only offer a shrug of his shoulder. "Perhaps... perhaps not. I've heard of it passing within days of an amputation, but I have met men who still complain of it."

Silver's blue eyes squeezed shut. _Of course..._ Not only did he have to suffer the torment caused by the inflamed stump itself, but now he had to feel pain in a limb that was no longer there. The luck he was experiencing as of late was truly astonishing. When it became apparent that he was no longer giving doctor Howell his attention, Flint granted him a favor by sending him on his way.

Once it was just the two of them Flint dragged his chair closer. "Is it that bad?" He asked, effectively breaking the silence as he slumped down in the chair. Silver didn't need to ask to know he was referring to this new "phantom" pain.

"No," Silver admitted with a sigh. "It's nothing compared to the stump. It just... It feels like my own body is mocking me." Fingers moved above the knee, kneading the muscle lightly before peering up at the man. Despite himself, he was surprised by the apparent understanding that resided in those green depths. The gaze he cast him now... It was not one of sympathy. It was distinctly different from the ones directed at him from the rest of the crew. While he couldn't exactly place the emotions within it, it was appreciated nonetheless. Flint may not yet see him as an equal, but he didn't view him as a cripple, either.

* * *

The sensations came and went after that. The majority of the time the pain that radiated from the amputation was enough to drown out anything else. Still, Silver came to notice it in his quieter moments. The pins and needles in his toes that were no longer there. The dull throbbing ache of an ankle long removed. He also began to notice a pattern. Whenever the phantom pains appeared, they did so not long before another bout of infection or swelling. It became almost a warning of what was to come. Fortunately, the phantom occurrences weren't limited to pain. Silver could sometimes feel the weight of flesh and bone as if it were still there, the way the sole of his foot would itch. Once he actually reached down to scratch his shin only to touch nothing but air.

Flint had a way about him, truly. Whenever Silver was experiencing these unsettling pangs, the captain was never too far away to take notice of it. He would then proceed to try and extend some form of comfort. Sometimes it was a gentle touch on his shoulder, other times it was as simple as offering a new book to read. On days when it was particularly bad, Flint would take a seat and distract him by striking up a conversation. This went hand in hand with the rest of his recovery. Since the loss of his leg Flint had risen to the unwilling yet seamless role of a caretaker. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. Flint could distinguish the difference in the sensations he was feeling with relative ease. Finally, one day Silver questioned him about this. Flint grew thoughtful for a moment before explaining that the physical pain from his stump was much more acute. The way his brow would furrow as he bit his lower lip, how his breaths would become slow, steady, purposeful. When it came to the phantom pains, he claimed his expression fell to one of calm curiosity more than anything else.

When Silver heard this he couldn't help the smirk that pulled at his lips. This only earned a scowl from the captain. "What's so amusing?" he asked, that familiar sharp edge in Flint's tone.

This only worked further against the man. "You have no idea, do you?" Silver asked with a chuckle. This caused Flint's brow to furrow slightly in confusion. "How much attention you pay me... If you're not careful, Captain, someone may start to think you're sweet on me." A genuine smile graced Silver's lips, the first since Charlestown, and he gave a slight shake of his head.

Despite the scowl that hardened Flint's features, those green eyes remained soft as he gazed down upon him. Like the calm before the storm, those turbulent waters were still. Considering. Before he knew it Flint had bent down to lightly press his lips against his mouth. The wiry hairs of his beard chaffed his skin as their lips met, a hand moving back to cradle the base of his neck. Silver's lips parted when that tongue stroked along his bottom lip. All too quickly, though, the man pulled away. Even so the want was clear in his eyes. But more than that, there was a gentle affection.

"Let them think it."


End file.
